


Game Night

by MelissaA



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: AU switch-up, Game Night, M/M, Slow Burn, unappreciated baseball references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-03-20 15:20:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18995287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelissaA/pseuds/MelissaA
Summary: David throws a chill game night and deeply regrets it. Or, a "timeline is slightly out of order" AU.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi All! Got this idea for an AU and decided to run with it. Thanks in advance for any constructive feedback!
> 
> I know this first chapter is pretty short, but I'd rather keep my chapters short and manageable (for me) so I can actually follow this thing through to the end! :)

Patrick knocks confidently at the door of the motel room and steps back to wait. Well, he knocks as confidently as one can when showing up for a party with complete strangers.

“Oh my god, Alexis! Who the hell is that? For your sake and mine, it had better have been a giant moth banging itself against the door and not a seventh person who is going to throw off our team numbers.” Patrick suddenly feels much less confident, backing away from the door. It sounds like there might be a something going on inside the room, but certainly not something he’s welcome to.

The door opens, and Alexis grins at him, then throws over her shoulder, “Relax, David, this is just Peter. I met him when I was out running earlier and invited him to our little party.”

“Not a party!”

“Whatever, David! He’s here now, so don’t be a dick.” A muffled foot-stomp comes from inside the room. “So sorry for my  _ stupid brother’s _ behavior, Peter. Come on in, grab a drink, don’t be afraid to get wild!” Alexis shimmies a bit, pulling the door open further, and Patrick gingerly walks over the threshold. 

Five people stare at him from around a table littered with small papers. One with incredibly thick eyebrows, David most likely, glares at him, then turns the brunt of it on his sister. “No one is, ‘getting wild.’ We agreed on a small, casual games night, and then you invite Parker when you  _ meet him on your run _ ??? Was there a screening process or did you just think, ‘Huh, I wanna stick my tongue down his throat. He’ll be a great addition to our games night. No way could he turn out to be a murderer!’”

“Ew, David! Murderers don’t wear button-downs. And his name is Peter.”

Patrick feels the need to cut in here. “Actually my name is Patrick. It’s nice to meet you all!” He hopes he cheery smile and wave will break the tension of the room, but it just draws David’s attention back to him. The stare-down that commences would be comical if Patrick wasn’t so worried about already making a bad impression on seemingly the only young-ish people in Schitt’s Creek. Hell, he just moved here a week ago. He can’t afford to be burning bridges so quickly. But really, David does have jungle eyebrows. So expressive! Just like his eyes… and really his whole face. In that moment, Patrick thinks it’s the most fascinating face he’s ever seen. Wait, how long has he been staring?

“Um, I’m Stevie.” A woman that looks weirdly similar to David thrusts a hand in front of him and breaks the spell. “It’s nice to meet you, Peter Parker Patrick. How did you get yourself roped into this?” 

Patrick chuckles at her name jibe and at the insinuation that everyone would rather be anywhere than at this games night. “I, uh, actually was heading to Ray’s - you know Ray? Talkative, excited - anyway, I’m renting a room from him. So I was on my way there when Alexis stopped me and invited me to this… shindig.” He gestures half-heartedly around the room. 

“Well, welcome to the  _ shindig _ . But seriously, here’s a beer; you’re gonna need it,” Stevie stage whispers the last part conspiratorially while handing him a bottle. Patrick grabs it gratefully and takes a massive swig.

\----------

 

A clatter wakes Patrick, and he peers around him, not really sure where he is. Or who’s gently snoring on his shoulder. A single lamp emits a tiny amount of light from where it’s rolled under a bed. It illuminates just enough of the room to solidify Patrick’s feeling of unfamiliarity. 

‘What the hell happened last night,’ he thinks as he looks for the source of the noise. A shadowed figure is picking its way through bodies and bottle strewn across the floor. It reaches what Patrick assumes is the bathroom and turns on the light, quickly closing the door behind it. That face - Patrick recognizes that face from just the quick glimpse. Big, dark eyebrows practically popping out from shadowed features. David Rose.

One by one, memories from last night flood Patrick’s brain. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick remembers last night.

Patrick pulls up a chair, taking another drink from his beer. “I’m Patrick,” he offers to the group around the table, hoping they’re more welcoming than David.

“Twyla! And this is my boyfriend Mutt!” A sweet-looking woman reaches over the table and offers her hand. This action from her seems to break the others out of their David-rage induced trances, and greetings are shared all around. Patrick tries not to think too much about Mutt’s name - how does no one else even bat an eye at it?

Alexis joins them at the table again, then stares at David, who has started writing frantically on the pieces of paper in front of him. “I don’t know if you’re aware, Day-vid, but we have a new addition to our group. Maybe you can explain to him what we’re doing?” She accompanies this with a very obvious kick to her brother’s shin.

“Damn it, Alexis! Okay, we’re writing the names of famous people - NOT yourself - and then mixing them up.” 

The very pale boy sitting next to David (Patrick honestly can’t and doesn’t want to remember his name) opens his mouth to ask something, but one glare shuts him right up. Patrick is tempted to ask David how he does it. He’s also kinda scared of the other man, so he thinks better of it. 

The group silently finishes the task, the only sound coming from pencils on paper. Honestly, the whole situation reminds Patrick more of taking a midterm than a fun game night with friends. Maybe this is just the vibe of this group?

Everyone passes their papers to David as they finish. After the last of them have been added to his pile, he starts to explain the game. Patrick listens long enough to figure out it’s a pretty generic charades-style game, then allows himself to zone out in favor of watching David’s gestures. He’s definitely a very  _ expressive _ talker. 

“-and that’s when you cut off one of your fingers.” Patrick’s head jerks up in horror. Is this a cult? Has he allowed himself to be lured into a cult meeting in this run-down motel in the middle of nowhere? 

“I’m sorry, did you just say we cut off a finger? I don’t think-”

David breaks in with a smirk, “No one’s losing any fingers tonight. It just kind of felt like  _ someone _ wasn’t listening, so I wanted to make sure everyone was paying attention.” The rest of the group looks anywhere but at Patrick, and for the third or fourth time that night, Patrick wishes he had just gone back to Ray’s. He could be sitting on the worn-in couch watching a baseball game right now. But he’s here with new people, actually making an effort at friendship, and he’ll be damned if he walks out of here without at least one conversation with someone!

He tries to match David’s smirk. “Right, of course, wouldn’t want to miss a single, titillating rule of the incredibly complicated game called Charades. “ Stevie snorts into her beer, while Alexis claps her hands in glee. 

“Burn, David! Burn!” David elbows her, and she elbows back. This exchange continues for longer than anyone is comfortable with. 

Stevie, who Patrick is pretty sure is his favorite at this point, thankfully jumps in. “Okay, let’s just get this thing started. I’ll go first!” David’s hand shoots out to stop her as she reaches for a paper from the pile.

“No, we don’t have the teams figured out yet. And with the addition of Pearl, our numbers aren’t even.” Pearl? Now Patrick  _ knows _ David is screwing with him. How is Patrick a hard name to remember?

For the first time that evening, Mutt speaks up. “Twy and Stevie and Patrick and I will be on a team. You three can be on the other.” He gestures towards Alexis, David, and pale-boy; Alexis shoots Mutt a look that can only be described as betrayal - interesting. Stevie nods gratefully to Mutt, and Patrick shares the sentiment.

“Fine. We’ll start.” With a huff, David digs in the pile of papers and pulls one out. Everyone waits as he unfolds and reads it. After a beat, he looks around, positively murderous. He looks down at the paper, then back up. Then back down. “Who the  _ hell _ wrote this? I said famous people, not food. Whoever wrote this can get the fuck out.” Briefly, Patrick wonders if he can just say he wrote it and have an excuse to leave.

Alexis finally gives in - “Ugh, okay David, what does it say?” 

“Babe Ruth. Literally the worst candy and not a famous person, so I’m doubly offended!” 

Stevie tries valiantly to stifle a laugh but fails miserably, along with everyone else around the table. “Oh my god, David. Who do you think the candy is named after? Babe Ruth is literally one of the most famous baseball players of all time. How can you no-”

A very red-faced David cuts her off. “I do not and never will consider sports people in the “famous people” category! Now, who did this? If you repent now, I might let you play next round.” No one looks up from the table, but they’re all still giggling. 

“That would be me.” Raising his hand, Patrick sheepishly makes eye-contact with the other man. “I can just write another one if you give me more paper. Maybe a singer? Or one of the Kardashians? They might be more your speed.” He can’t help the sarcasm that flows into his words. 

Apparently, that’s the final straw. David silently gathers up all the papers from the table, dumps them in the waste bin on his way into the other room, and quietly shuts the door behind him.

Well.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another short one, but I do promise this is going somewhere!

“Soooo, that just happened.” Alexis nervously pulls at her hair, and their laughter dies out quickly.

Damn it. Patrick’s never felt like such an asshole before - usually, his sarcasm is met with a smile or similar teasing. Of course, usually, his sarcasm isn’t aimed at someone he’s actually annoyed with. “Maybe I should -” He cuts himself off and waves awkwardly at the closed door. 

“No!” Both Stevie and Alexis stare at him like he’s grown an extra head. Alexis continues, “David’s not very good with group activities, including games. He just wanted to sit in bed and read tonight anyway, so no harm done!” Patrick doesn’t think anyone is fooled by her chipper tone. They all sit in silence, not really sure where to go from there. 

A loud knocking at the outside door solves their problem for them. “Ooo!” Alexis squeals and bounces over to the door. Four guys grin at her as she opens the door, one carrying a keg on his shoulder. “You made it! And don’t you all look cute in your little flannel shirt-thingys.” She gently flops her hands at the nearest guy’s chest, petting him in a way that’s only okay because it’s Alexis. 

________

 

Beer has been flowing for the last two hours, and Patrick thinks he’s having a better time than expected. Everyone except pale-boy, who’s stationed himself in a corner, sits in on the floor in various states of inebriation. Stevie leans against Twyla, who leans again Mutt, who leans against the near-empty keg. Patrick leans back against what he assumes is David’s bed. 

“Let’s play a game!” Drunk Stevie is surprisingly gung-ho. Scattered nods from around the circle encourage her to continue. “Never have I ever. Hmmmm…” Her eyes travel around the faces until they light on Patrick. He gulps. “Never have I ever completely alienated someone within the first ten minutes of meeting them at their game night.” Mutt chuckles, waking Twyla, who then laughs, too, obviously not sure what’s going on. 

“Fine,” Patrick says after taking a long pull from his cup. “Never have I ever purposely targeted someone I just met in a drinking game.” Stevie grins and throws back the rest of her drink.

Seeing where this is going, Alexis claps her hands. “Okay! How about we play another game. Liiiiike…” Her eyes scan the room. “Spin the bottle! We have a ton of those.” One of the random guys throws an almost-empty bottle in the middle of the group. Patrick wouldn’t mind kissing that guy - tall, chiseled jaw, big hands. Wait. What? Reel that in. Alexis! She’s obviously gorgeous and hot, and Patrick definitely wants to kiss her because she’s a girl. Yep.

He looks up in time to see the spinning bottle come to a stop, pointing at Stevie. Alexis shuffles over to the other woman, and they share a quick peck. Stevie spins next, landing on one of the other random guys, Gus maybe? This kiss is a bit longer, but eventually Gus? grabs the bottle and continues the game. Patrick loses track of who’s kissed whom, until a giggle brings him back from the brink of his alcohol haze. 

“Paaaatriiiiick,” Alexis smiles at him and licks her lips, and he should really find that sexy. “Come here, big guy!” Shaking his head with a smirk, he crawls forward, and they meet in the middle. It feels like kissing Rachel. Soft, nice, but flat. It’s at the moment he opens his eyes that the door to the adjoining room opens, and David walks through. Their eyes lock, Patrick still attached to Alexis. 

David retreats back into the room and closes the door. A sudden sense of loss fills Patrick.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick is not in the mood for David's nonsense, and David doesn't care. What's new?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has commented so far! I'm not really good at replying individually since I never have anything great to say beyond a big THANK YOU :)
> 
> If Patrick or David (or any of the other characters) feel off, it's probably because I'm trying to feel out their voices. This is set before David and Alexis do all their personal growth stuff, so I imagine that Patrick and David don't mesh together as effortlessly as they do in the actual show. I'm enjoying figuring out where this is going, and I hope you are too!

“So - Alexis, huh? And Stevie? And Twyla…” David doesn’t take his eyes off the road, but Patrick can hear the judgment in his voice. It’s not like he needs a reminder of last night’s  _ multiple  _ mistakes. 

He turns toward the window and mutters, “Yeah, yeah, okay, that’s enough.” Without a doubt, this is the most hungover Patrick has ever been. Each little bump and dip in the road jerks his stomach, and his brain feels like it’s trying to smash a hole through his skull. It doesn’t help that David wants to gleefully rehash the entirety of last night’s game of spin the bottle. After a jolting right turn, Patrick blurts out, “Could you slow down?” Even as he asks, he knows it will just encourage David more. Sure enough, David swerves - actually goes out of his way - into a pothole! ‘What an effing brat,’ he thinks and promptly vomits all over the dashboard. 

______________________

Patrick gently pushes pale-boy from where he’s sleeping on his shoulder. Maybe he can get out of the motel room before David leaves the bathroom. Standing up poses more of a problem than he thought; the sudden dizziness has him lurching not-so-quietly outside and getting sick in the grass. “I need to get outta here. I need to-”

“Talking to yourself? Not a cute look. Especially looking like you’re actually a hobo who just crawled out of the woods. If I hadn’t seen you royally embarrassing yourself last night at Alexis’ party, I would call the cops on your vagrant ass. Or, well, I would call Tim, who would eventually sober up and come over here. But - whatever! You’re just lucky I’m so nice.” 

Patrick doesn’t have to look up from where he’s on his hands and knees, dry-heaving, to know David’s followed him outside. He also doesn’t need to look up to know the other man is currently wearing the most obnoxious, gloating smirk. God, one night of knowing the guy, and he can already imagine his stupid expressions. 

David’s shoes appear in his vision. “As much as I’m enjoying this, you should really leave. My mother doesn’t do well with all…” Patrick can practically feel the flailing hands gesturing at him. “This.”

“Uuuugghh.”

“Yeah, I get it. That it’s hard for you to move right now. But if you could like, just, crawl around the corner to the other side of the motel, that would be better for everyone else. I think there’s a little water spout over there or something, so you should be fine!” 

Patrick flops on his back and glares up at David incredulously. “Derek. Leave me. The. Hell. Alone.” What transpires next is the longest staring contest of his life. He swears he sees David's eyebrow twitch at least thirty times.

“Fine! I’ll drive you back to Ray’s. Happy?” David throws his arms up and stomps towards his car. Once there, he tries the door handle, then stomps back towards the motel room. “I have to get Stevie’s keys,” he throws over his shoulder. Patrick just watches as the other man slips through the door.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick settles into his new life, and David finds a new project.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read/kudo-ed/commented! Here's a slightly longer chapter - please let me know what you think.

It’s been a month since Patrick moved to Schitt’s Creek, and he finally feels like he’s getting to know the town. He spent the first couple of weeks exploring the town during his early-morning runs, making note of the various small businesses on the main street. The houses lining the narrow lanes and cul-de-sacs. The two bars and the cafe and the Chinese restaurant that used be a Mexican place and an American-style diner before that. 

After he explored every nook and cranny, Patrick started to find his favorite routes, before settling on one - down Ray’s street, turn right, pass Town Hall, left at the general store, wave good morning to Twyla as she put out the chalkboard sign with the daily specials. He now knows Twyla is the only other person in the town up and about before 7. 

Schitt’s Creek feels like his hometown did before everything went to shit. Which is ironic, he acknowledges. He knows his neighbors and their habits, just like he knew Mrs. Keeley who lived in the small house next to his when he was a kid. She had a white rabbit named Sir George, and she would take him on walks around the neighborhood, the large ball of fluff occasionally lunging at passing dogs. That thing was a menace, but Patrick kinda loved him, to the point of being heartbroken when he passed. As he runs past closed-down arcade, he wonders briefly what Mrs. Keeley is doing now. What is she planting in her little garden in the front this spring? Maybe daffodils - she always let Patrick cut some and bring them to his mother when he still lived there. 

Deciding to shorten his run today, Patrick looks back through town. “Hey, Patrick! Twice in one morning?” Twyla calls out from where she’s setting up the chairs around the outdoor tables in front of the cafe. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you have a crush on me.” Patrick laughs and slows to a stop. While he definitely doesn’t have any romantic interest in the waitress, he does really like her company. 

He grins, catching his breath. “Yeah, yeah, and I’m heartbroken every time I see you with Mutt. I can grow out the beard if that’s what you need. I can probably even take up woodworking - I made a pretty mean car for the pinewood derby when I was twelve!” Twyla chuckles and shakes her head. Ever since they kissed (very,  _ very _ briefly) during spin the bottle at the Rose’s motel party, this has been their running joke. Mutt thinks it’s funny since he and Patrick are the farthest thing from each other, and Patrick never actually presents himself as real competition. The three of them are quickly becoming good friends.

“Get outta here, Brewer,” Twyla dismisses him as she turns back to start food prep in the cafe. 

He starts running again, then yells back over his shoulder, “I’ll wait for you!” Patrick thinks he might really be able to make a new home here.

_______________

“And then she threw the wig at Alexis. Now we haven’t been able to get her to leave the bathroom all day!” David’s panicky voice rises above the general din of the cafe. He and Stevie sit in their usual booth, a plate of untouched mozzarella sticks between them. Patrick can see Stevie roll her eyes from where he’s sitting at the counter waiting for his tea. 

Twyla gently touches his arm. “Here’s your tea!” He takes it with a “thank you” and heads over to find out more about the Moira drama of the day. While there’s always some good gossip in small towns like Schitt’s Creek, Moira Rose tends to create a bit more than usual. Maybe it’s her eccentricity. Maybe it’s the fact that both David’s and Alexis’ voices carry so beautifully that no one can ignore the stories they’re spreading. Either way, Patrick loves a good Moira tale and will not be left out of this one. 

Without greeting them, Patrick scoots into the booth next to Stevie and grabs one of the mozzarella sticks. Nope, those are still mostly frozen. He sets it back down and takes a sip of tea instead. It’s scalding.

“So, what is this that I hear about flying wigs? Was it Carmen?” 

David stares at him, then shakes his head. “No, of course not! My mother would never throw Carmen. Can you imagine trying to comb out those curls afterward?” All three of them pause, contemplating the herculean nature of the task, then shudder. “It was Kimberly. But it really doesn’t matter - what matters is that my mother has locked herself in the bathroom and has pledged to only eat my dad’s prescription Viagra until the motel fixes the ice machine outside. She’s calling it the greatest hunger strike of the century.” David finishes with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. Patrick knows Moira can be a lot, which is hilarious, but he forgets that it actually wears on David, since he’s usually the one who has to talk her off the ledge.  

Stevie chimes in, “What are the odds we’re going to have to call poison control by the end of the day? I know your mom has gone days on just pills before, but I really don’t want to know what a whole bottle of Viagra is going to do to her.” She picks up one of the mozzarella sticks, then seems to come to the same conclusion about them as Patrick. “Plus, I don’t think we’re getting that ice machine working. Don’t tell anyone, but I found a squirrel in it when I opened it up this morning. I talked my aunt about replacing it, but she just said to put an out-of-order sign on it and call it a day.” Seemingly forgetting about the first attempt, Stevie goes back in for another of the frozen appetizers. 

Sipping on his tea, Patrick listens to his friends go back and forth, trading worries about Moira’s chances of living through the next morning. They can’t be too concerned, since the topic eventually changes to lighter matters. Apparently, The Great Wall is closing down and being replaced by a bar - a gay bar. In Schitt’s Creek.

“That’s a bold choice,” Patrick can’t help interjecting. Stevie looks at him confused, David concerned and maybe a bit angry. “I mean, not bold from like a social justice perspective. It’s just that the two bars that are already here barely make enough to stay afloat. How will a gay bar manage in a place with like six gay people, tops?” He’s privy to the financial details of most of the town’s businesses, either through actually working with them or from Ray’s over-sharing. The Copper Penny only stays open because the owner deals raw milk on the side. As for Maurice’s, Patrick doesn’t actually know where the money comes from. He’s only ever seen one or two people in there on Friday nights. A gay bar has no chance of making it, he thinks. 

Stevie murmurs her agreement, but David has a strange glint in his eyes as he says, “No. Schitt’s Creek should have a gay bar. It  _ needs _ a gay bar! Sure, there aren’t many actual gay people here, but straight girls will go and be only slightly annoying. It could a real social hub. You know what-” The dark-haired man stands suddenly, rattling the plate of still uneaten appetizers. “I have to go somewhere. See you two later.” And with that, he practically races out of the cafe. 

In the following silence, Patrick and Stevie just look at each other and shrug. 


	6. Chapter .5.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of backstory on how this AU came to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! So sorry for the wait between chapters - ran into a bit of a block with Chapter 6, so decided to rewind and fill in with Chapter .5. Then, that ended up being longer than expected, so there will be a Chapter .5.2 coming out!
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and kudoing and commenting!

David often wonders what he could accomplish if he wasn’t so afraid. Afraid of heights. Afraid of businesswomen in sneakers. Afraid of moths. Would he be living in some villa in the south of France, basking in the attention of an incredibly attractive lover? Or maybe he’d be pursuing art in the way he actually wanted to - not as a curator but as the creator. He definitely wouldn’t be in Schitt’s Creek, hiding from the world in a run-down motel with his family. 

No, David knows that somewhere, in a blessed alternate universe, fearless David is galavanting around the world - meeting new people, breaking hearts, building a life. 

Alexis points out once, in a moment of clarity, that David is so afraid of showing fear that it paints itself all over his body. Every twitch of his eyebrow, every clench of his fist. The more he strains to reel himself in, the more anxiety seeps from his pores. Hearing this does nothing to assuage David’s fear or anxiety, but Alexis just shrugs and leaves for community service. 

Despite the constant gnawing fear, David pulls himself out of bed every morning. He brushes his teeth and styles his hair and never fails to deliver perfect, on-trend looks. 

‘Just when you think you can’t take one more breath, think of the fans. You  _ must _ deliver for the fans!’ A typical Moira-ism, imparted on David - age seven - as his mother takes another gulp from her boot flask, wig askew. Years later, he still isn’t completely sure if she meant this comment for him or herself. But does it really matter?

See, fear is something David can’t afford to feel, and yet he does. Late at night, with Alexis safely snoring in the bed next to him, he allows himself to sink into the terror, to wrap himself in it. And when the sun rises, he folds it up carefully and stuffs it as far inside as he can. 

Life would be so different if he wasn’t so afraid.  _ He _ would be so different. 

____

I can tell you this, looking at David as he stands across the street from the newly-closed Chinese restaurant, determination - and fear - spreading through his body. Yes, David’s life would be so different without the fear.  _ He _ would be so different. But maybe not in the way he thinks. 

____

“Oh my god, David, hurry up! Some of us actually have places to be.” David ignores the continuous banging on the bathroom door and decides to spend just a bit longer on his hair. He deserves it. Just one week in this hell-hole and he already has grays coming in. And if Alexis claims that those gray hairs were already there before coming to Schitt’s Creek, she can drink a bottle of bleach! “David, seriously, if you don’t open the door, I’m going to get Dad.”

David yanks the door open, pissed off that not one single person in this damn town has any respect for him and his routine. “Fine! Knock yourself out in here. Like, really, I hope you fall and hit your head on the sink and lose consciousness.” The hurt look Alexis gives him as she scoots into the tiny room lets him know he’s gone too far, and he mumbles an apology on his way out of the bathroom. 

He’s putting the finishing touches on his hair in the bedroom mirror when Alexis pokes her head around the bathroom door frame. “David, you can come with me to the cafe if you want to. I mean, not that I actually want you there, but since all you do is mope around here anyway…” She trails off, then goes back to finishing her makeup. 

Considering his options, David decides to swallow his pride - it’s not like he actually has any other options. He raises his voice so Alexis will hear him over her humming, “Okay, but only because it’s Pancake Thursday, and those are the most edible things there.”

Alexis’ quick thumbs-up through the doorway lets him know he’s been heard. 

He sits on the edge of his bed and thinks about his shoes. Which ones will go best with his spiked-shoulder sweater? Maybe the Alexander McQueen steel-toe boots with the studs around the edges? David shoves his feet in (the only pair he had been able to find was a size and a half too small) and goes to stand in front of the mirror. Just walking in them across the room is almost too much. ‘Beauty is pain, until it kills you. Then beauty is hell.’ - Another Moira-ism. 

“Aw, David! I love those boots. Remember when you let me wear them to that cute little Halloween party Justin threw that one time he was under house arrest?” Alexis goes all dreamy, no doubt remembering something that David really, really does not want to know about his sister. She shakes her head and says, “Anyway, they look so cute on you with those little shoulder spikeys!”

“Thanks, now let’s get out of here before Mom comes back. I don’t think I can stand another breakdown right now.” The siblings share a panicked look and scurry to the front door, elbowing each other out of the way. “Alexis! I’m older, so I go first.”

“Ow, David. Owww!”

“Shut it! Just get out of my - Ugghhhh!!” David flails his arms as he opens the door, trying to back into the room and stepping on his sister’s foot in the process. “Moth! Moth! Where did it go? It flew right into my face, Alexis! Why are you holding your foot and not HELPING ME FIND THE MOTH?!”

Alexis stares at him from where she’s collapsed on the floor. She’s cradling her foot, in actual pain this time, but it takes a full minute of freaking out before David notices her tears. 

“Oh shit! Alexis, why are you crying? Did the moth bite you?” Alexis shakes her head, still holding her foot. “It bit your foot? Oh my god, I told you those things are e-”

“Shut  _ up _ , David! It wasn’t the moth - it was your stupid, massive feet in those stupid, massive boots. I think,” she pulls her hand away from her foot, and brother and sister both gag a bit, “you destroyed my toe. Ew David, look at it! I think you broke it.”

David wants to deny any fault in the situation. After all, who can be held accountable for their actions when they’re being attacked by a moth? But staring down at his baby sister and her gross, bloody toe, he has to blink back his own tears. He can’t remember the last time he actually physically hurt Alexis. What kind of big brother is he?

“David?” Alexis’ voice reaches out to him, almost timidly. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s probably not broken. You didn’t mean to.” Now he’s crying for real. How selfish is he that even when his sister is in pain, he finds a way to make it about himself? Why can’t he just grow up and take responsibility for once?

David shakes his head, once, twice, then wills the tears back into his ducts. A voice echoes in his head, ‘This is Alexis, your baby sister! Say hi, David. Now that she’s here, you’re a big brother, and it’s gonna be your job to help protect her….’ Dad was right, he’s Alexis’ big brother, and right now he needs to get her to the nearest hospital. 

“Don’t ever tell anyone about this,” he growls as he ducks down and picks her up.

“Oh my god, David! I can walk on it,” Alexis half-heartedly slaps at his shoulder, but makes no real move of resistance.

Marching decisively out the door again - moths be damned - David only stops for Alexis to awkwardly lock the door while trying not to be dropped, then continues on his way to the motel office.

“Stevie! We need the nearest hospital, stat!” That’s something people say, right?

The woman behind the desk just stares at the duo for a moment, then lets out a thin, “What the hell?”

“Don’t worry your beautiful head about it, Stevie! My brother’s just being weird. I just hurt my toe a bit. I mean, it’s nothing compared to that time I was on an episode of Ghost Hunters and this really angry -”

“We don’t have time for that, Alexis. Is there a doctor here? Can we use your car? Actually, can you drive us, because I am far too shaky to be on the road right now.”

Stevie shakes her head in mild disbelief (although the longer she knows the Roses, the more she’s willing to believe anything). “Yeah, super sorry, but the closest you’re going to get to a doctor in Schitt’s Creek is the vet, Ted. He’s just like five minutes away, so I’ll drive you over. But David, you might have to let go of Alexis when we get to the car.” With that, she grabs the keys and leaves David to follow, still holding his sister.


	7. Chapter .5.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of David breaking Alexis' foot and feeling terrible about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow... so I haven't posted in quite a while. Sorry about that! Wasn't sure where/how to take this story, but now I'm back on track. Thanks to everyone who's kudo'd/commented so far!  
> ______________________________________________________________________________

“Ugggghhhhhhh....” Alexis’ loud whining wakes David from an already fitful sleep. He blinks slowly and stares across the divide between their beds to see his sister tossing her head gently.

“Hey, Alexis,” he hisses. “You’re doing that weird cry/groaning thing again.”

“Whaaa?”

“I’m trying to sleep, and you’re making noises again.”

“Well, David, forgive me for letting my  _ excruciating pain _ get in the way of your beauty sleep.” She huffs and tries to adjust the pillow under her foot, but the resulting jolt has her falling back whimpering.

David’s out of his bed in a second, gingerly lifting his sister’s broken foot and moving the pillow around. He looks up once he’s done fussing with it and meets Alexis’ eyes. Why is she looking at him like that?

“What?”

“Nothing, just, you’re a good big brother. You know that, right?

Sliding back under his covers, David turns away from her and traces the light peeking out around the edges of the motel curtains with his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Just go back to sleep and try not to wake me up again.”

____________

Stevie glances up at David over her computer. It’s obvious his suffering is taking a back seat to her game of solitaire, so he stops his pacing and pulls the mouse away from her. And immediately regrets it when she trains her most terrifying glare on him. Really, all her glares are terrifying.

“Uh, here ya go. Just needed to, uh, fix the little light at the bottom and…” David trails off. He taps the bottom of the mouse a couple of times, then hands it back over. 

Stevie immediately goes back to clicking. “So, Alexis is already out her pain meds? It’s only been like two days.”

“Yeah, well two days is impressive considering our mom knew where they were. I think Alexis only got like half a day’s worth.” David’s actually a bit concerned about what Moira’s done with the rest - he imagines she’s squirreled them away somewhere, which is preferable to her ingesting them all over the course of a couple of days.

His friend, as he’s taken to thinking of her since they met a couple of weeks ago, shoots him a questioning look and shrugs. She never seems too surprised when it comes to the Roses and their strange habits.

“If she needs more, I know a guy.”

David stops pacing. “I knew it! Of course you’d know ‘a guy’ in this hell-hole.” Stevie actually looks a little affronted at that, and he reminds himself that while she hates Schitt’s Creek, it’s also the only home she’s ever known. Probably best not to trash talk it too much. “But yes, thank you. If you know a guy who has some stuff, preferably really strong stuff, I’m very much interested!”

Stevie grunts and keeps clicking. David takes that as his cue to leave the office.

________________

“Here.” David barely keeps from flinching when a piece of paper is thrust in his face.

“What’s this? Your phone number? I already have it, and with the number of gifs you send, I wish I could lose it,” he quips as he unfolds it. There’s an address written in sloppy cursive. “A. Where is this? B. How did they let you out of third grade with this hand-writing?”

Stevie waves Twyla over and orders a burger and fries. As the waitress walks away, David notices his friend subtly watching her. Interesting… but not important right now.

“I told you I know a guy. That’s where the guy is. If you want Alexis to stop waking you up in the middle of the night with her howls of pain, meet the guy there at 10 tonight.” She pauses to dunk a fry in ketchup, then bites the end off. 

David has spent more time with Stevie in the last couple of weeks than is probably healthy for either of them, but it’s also the first time he’s had a friend who doesn’t ask him for drugs on a regular basis. All this time together has given David an intimate knowledge of her frankly weird habits. Like the way she eats fries - no matter how long the fry, Stevie always bites it in three parts. Which is why she has to have her own ketchup. There’s no way David is sharing with the amount of triple-dipping that goes on. 

The two sit in companionable silence (something David’s never had before - awkward silence? Angry silence? Someone’s totally forgotten he’s there silence? Absolutely.) while Stevie finishes her burger. “Well, gotta get back to the motel. While I sincerely doubt anyone has tried to rent a room, best not to leave the computer alone for too long. It gets lonely.” With that, she stands up, leaves a twenty on the table, and walks out of the cafe. 

Twyla heads over to clean up Stevie’s plate and picks up the cash. “Awww, that’s nice of her! Or maybe she just meant to leave a ten and got confused.” Twyla turns the bill over in her hands a few times. “I’ll return the change to her later!”

“No, no, I think she wanted to leave you a tip,” David supplies, finishing off his coffee. “You know Stevie! Always generous and…” he trails off because no, no one would call his friend generous. Something’s definitely up with her. Staring at Twyla. Leaving Twyla a massive tip. Maybe she has a bit of a crush. He’s relatively sure she’s into guys and girls, but the waitress doesn’t seem up Stevie’s alley. She’s too nice, too optimistic. But then again, David’s dated plenty of people who are his polar opposite, like Dale. All those muscles and tank tops and basketball. Nope! No thinking about Dale. 

Sometime during his introspection, Twyla cleared the table and left, so David shoves the paper with the mysterious address in his bag and starts the short walk to the town library.

______________________

After spending the majority of the day online shopping on one of the library’s two computers, then getting dinner with his family, David’s relieved it’s almost ten. Well, it’s 9:30, but he really can’t take another minute in the motel room. Alexis has decided that having a broken foot means she has full control of the television at all times, and David can’t really argue with that. Thankfully, his sister insisted on not telling their parents how she broke her foot, but now that makes him feel even worse every time he looks at her. 

“Ugh David! Stop looking at me like that. I’m fine - just, come back with those pills and we’ll be even.” Alexis doesn’t even glance up from her phone as she waves him out the door. 

The evening air is a welcome relief from the stuffiness of the room, and David breathes deeply as he starts the walk across town. It’s nights like this that make him understand country living. Sort of. He definitely misses the lights and sounds of New York, although he chose to live in quiet(er) neighborhoods. There was always something to do or see, though; always something to distract him from just how shitty life was. And that’s the surprising thing, David thinks - he can’t say he’s happy here in this little, uneventful town, but he’s content. Content in a way New York David had never thought possible.

He rounds the corner to the sight of Twyla sweeping the sidewalk in front of Cafe Tropical and waves. She stops and grins back, calling a cheery, “Hi!” Mutt comes out of the cafe behind her and waves as well before wrapping his arms around her. David’s mind goes back to Stevie and her weirdness. He’s intrigued but also doesn’t want to see his friend get hurt. Mutt and Twyla seem good together. Shaking his head, David resolves to take Stevie out to a bar to find some randoms. And if she doesn’t want the randoms, more for him!

The walk takes longer than expected, and he arrives with just five minutes to spare. He’s in front of a small, but cozy house that most definitely doesn’t look like a drug den. Of course, why would he think there could be a place like that in Schitt’s creek? Sparing a look around, for what he’s not sure, David heads up the short walkway to the front door and knocks. There’s some banging from inside, the sound of a blender, then a sharp yelp. Which is… concerning.

Suddenly, the door swings open, and David is greeted by a friendly-looking man in an apron, holding a bleeding, yet intact, finger. He reaches out with the non-injured hand and beams. “Hi, you must be David! I’m Ray. Stevie says you need drugs?”

________________

“And that’s how I started my “Wellness not Hell-ness Smoothies” business,” Ray finishes with a triumphant grin. “It turns out even Cafe Tropical can only give so many people food poisoning before people demand competition in the market! More?” He fills up David’s glass with more Strawb-Ray-rry smoothie before the younger man can decline. 

The evening has unfolded a bit differently than expected. After Ray let him in, David was bombarded with story after story behind the spirited entrepreneur’s many businesses. Turns out the man does a bit of everything - smoothies, photography, eccentric plumbing (David still has no concrete understanding of what that entails). The latest business to fail, however, is Ray’s questionable Closet Pharmacy - “It’s a pharmacy in a closet! Crazy that no one thought of it before.”

The closing of Closet Pharmacy is good news for David, as it means Ray is trying to move a disturbingly large amount of prescription drugs out of his house as quickly as possible. 

“Wow, that’s, uh, pretty amazing! Who knew there could be so much backstory behind smoothies. So, about those painkillers-” David knows he’s being pushy, so he takes another sip from his glass. 

Ray perks up. “Ah, yes! Let me see.” He opens one of several closets and rummages around. “You know, David, I have a new business starting in a few weeks.” Something falls from a shelf, but the older man continues in quest for the pills. “It’s business management! Helping stores and restaurants and such here in Schitt’s Creek reach their full potenti- Aha! Got it!” Ray backs out of the closet, victoriously waving a clear plastic bag in the air. There’s absolutely no way this pharmacy was legal. 

“Oh great! I’ll just take those.” David takes the bag and asks, “How much will that be?”

The other man has opened another closet and is pulling out signs and pamphlets. With barely a look over his shoulder, he says, “It’s on me! Gotta get rid of it anyway, and we Butanis are all about neighborly love. You give me a cup of sugar. I give you a bag of pills. You know how it goes!” David doesn’t know how it goes, but he’s not about to look a gift-horse in the mouth. “What do you think of this?” Ray pulls out a flier that has, ‘Your business is the Schitt!’ printed on it in huge letters. “It’s for the new business I was telling you about. Had a ton of these printed up, so hopefully this is good… since I can’t afford to print new ones…” He looks at David expectantly.

The younger man looks over the paper for what he hopes is an appropriate amount of time before saying, “Yup, yeah, uh-huh. That’s - really great. I mean, it might be good to have a website or phone number on it. But, looking good!” 

Ray turns the flier to look at it contemplatively. “I suppose I could hand-write the phone number. That will probably only take five or six hours for all five hundred!” The man is back to his beaming self, and David really just wants to go home. But he’s also curious. 

“How do you run so many businesses, Ray? Have you ever thought of hiring someone to help? Like, just with the boring stuff.”

“Wow, David! That’s a great idea - I could provide employment for someone who needs a job, and I could spend more time on my smoothie recipes,” Ray looks lost in thought, probably thinking up his next barely-edible idea. “But where would I find someone like that?”

David considers offering to take the job for half a second, then remembers he’d be working for Ray. “You could post on job sites and at the library. There has to be someone desperate - I mean motivated - enough to want the job with you. Here in Schitt’s Creek. In the middle of nowhere.”

____________

He decides there’s time for one more look through the listings on Indeed. It’s not like he has anything to do tomorrow morning. Or the next. Patrick hates being out of a job, but one more day in that soul-sucking office would have done him in.

“Honey, are you coming to bed? You’ve spent enough time on your computer tonight,” Rachel’s voice calls from the bedroom, and he feels the deep-seated guilt he’s been carrying with him since they got back together two years ago. He really doesn’t want to join her in bed for a million reasons, and none of them are her fault. 

“I’m just going to check a few more jobs, Rach. Be in soon!” Patrick’s met with silence. Better than their recent bouts of yelling, he supposes. Looking back at his laptop, he scrolls through recently-added job postings. Some in Toronto, Ottawa, Gravehurst, Kingston. He hasn’t yet told Rachel he’s expanded his search past their city. No need to start a fight before it’s necessary. Parry Sound, Kearney, Schitt’s Creek. Wait, what the hell? An actual, real-life place called Schitt’s Creek? Without thinking twice, Patrick clicks the listing. 


End file.
